My Wonderful Neighbors
by SoupTea
Summary: A series about Jecht and his eccentric neighbors. Genre changes throughout chapters. AU. Might range from one-shots to continuations. Previously "While Shopping"; changed to title to keep the story consistent.
1. While Shopping

When he finds the generic blue bottles in his favorite aisle, Jecht's characteristic grin slips. He looks again, this time letting his eyes slowly fall across the labels. Distilled. Strong. Fully fermented. Fruit. All the cheap knockoffs that pale in comparison to his favorite.

"This is ridiculous!" Jecht shouts, surprising the other men in the aisle. They shoot him a few weird looks but ultimately leave him alone in his anger. He whips his head around for any sign of the manager. Anyone that can take a piece of his mind.

"Of course you're here, Jecht." A brooding voice crawls up his back, pulling up the hairs of the back of his neck along the way.

Jecht mutters something under his breath, but that spiteful man insists on leaning closer. The smell of expensive shampoo and perfume causes his eyes to water.

"Mateus," Jecht says very, very slowly to avoid the man's scent.

Mateus smiles in response to his name. It isn't a kind smile, but is isn't one of malice either. But it looks off and gives Jecht an odd feeling of fear and indigestion.

He risks a glance at the man's shopping basket. "I thought you already had all those shampoos," Jecht says.

"Only the best," Mateus replies with another smile. Today, that man kept his silver hair, which Jecht found out only recently that it was his natural color. Other days, he dyed it blond, accompanied with soft violet streaks. Compared to the sloppy Jecht, Mateus was the epitome of neatness.

"When will you know that drinking is bad for your health?" Mateus sighs, and Jecht shoots him a frown. "They all have different labels, but in the end, they do nothing but mess up your mind."

"At least I don't smell like a fruit salad," Jecht snickers. If Mateus had heard that, he doesn't make a show of it. Instead, his arrogant, obnoxious neighbor digs into his basket and slides a green bottle into Jecht's own.

"You need to stop reeking like sweat every night. I can't concentrate on my writing." Jecht sighs through gritted teeth. He has the sudden urge to scratch his stomach in front of Mateus, just to gross him out, but decides against it. "You and your son always bring a storm of sweat into the neighborhood. How can I maintain a proper, hygienic place to perfect my literature?"

"You can wear a face mask. Or you can drink to forget the smell."

Mateus chuckles darkly. "And waste my money on your precious 'beer' when I can get water for free? I think not."

Before Jecht can raise his voice, another man stumbles into the aisle. He stops, rubs his eyes, and brushes past the two without a word.

"Hey, Seph!" Jecht calls.

His other neighbor turns. "I told you not to call me that," he mutters.

"My, my." Mateus shakes his head while making a _tsk-tsk_ motion. "Someone has been neglecting their proper prescription of sleep. Remember, a grown adult should get at seven to eight hours of sleep to fully function."

"I get ten!" Jecht roars. Fortunately, the aisle is empty.

Sephiroth frowns and proceeds to look through the shelves. "I can't help it. One screw-up can lead to major consequences for national security."

"I thought you were a professor," Jecht says.

"I'm a lecturer, not a researcher," Sephiroth snaps. Then he sighs. "I have enough essays to grade in a week, on top of government work." He taps his fingers against a brown box, hesitates, then plucks out a red one. "Sometimes I don't understand what goes through their heads."

"The students or—"

"Both," Sephiroth finishes with a smirk. He turns to the two men while holding up the boxes. "Which one is more caffeinated?"

"Don't drink that. It's bland and boring," Jecht says.

"Not everyone can hold their alcohol like you," Sephiroth mutters.

"You should take care of your hair." Mateus nods at the heavy bags under his eyes. "You have split ends. A simple comb should suffice, as well as the premium shea-butter with aloe shampoo."

Sephiroth glowers at the items Mateus casually placed in his basket, but he's too tired to protest. He grabs several boxes of dark instant coffee, muttering something about dumping it all into one cup.

"What do you mean I have dry skin! How rude!" another voice rings out. This time, Mateus rolls his eyes. Jecht had never seen the manner-addicted neat-freak out of character, but he understands why. Even Sephiroth groans.

"Kuja," Jecht says as the boy storms into the aisle.

At the sight of the men, Kuja's expression brightens. "Salutations, fellow neighbors!" he sings. "What a coincidence that fate has allowed us another chance to see each other!"

"Isn't he in your same publication circle?" Sephiroth turns to Mateus.

Mateus has his fingers on his temples. "No. He's just the newspaper boy."

"I'm an accredited performer!" Kuja pouts. "But I can write better stories than you, _Emperor."_

"Emperor?" Jecht echoes.

"Because he thinks he's a big-shot," Kuja says, shooting Mateus a haughty glare. "Everyone refers to him as the 'Emperor of Critique.'"

Said man musters a forced smirk. "What are you doing here, Kuja?"

"Oh! You won't believe it!" Kuja's previously happy expression turns into a frown. "I was asking for lotion recommendations, and the incompetent idiot handed me a lotion _for dry skin_!" His hands shoot to his face. "But, of course, I never have dry skin. I make sure to take care of my face every day and shower accordingly."

His listeners didn't seem to understand the scope of the crisis.

"Neat freaks," Jecht mutters in disbelief. "I only shower twice a week."

Sephiroth looks taken back, as did Mateus and Kuja. "You're lying."

"Nope! Tidus, on the other hand, takes his sweet time. The boy loves water. I always tell him to conserve water in case there's a drought."

"Sleeping too long and showering too little." Mateus has the most disapproving look on his face. Jecht almost feels guilty. Almost. "And drinking far too much. You're pumping money into an industry that doesn't support healthy initiatives."

"He's right," Sephiroth adds, surprising Jecht. The two rarely agreed on something. "There has been scientific issues on the benefits of coffee. That should be a better alternative to beer, which shows no benefits." He rubs his eyes again. "But still, do everything in moderation. You wouldn't want alcohol poisoning this early in your life."

"You should take care of your skin," Kuja chimes in, frowning at his Jecht's dry, ashen arms. "Or you'll get wrinkles."

Jecht blinks. The whole conversation had taken a weird turn in direction. Why was he here again?

"I don't feel like buying a beer today," Jecht sighs. _After all y'all showed up_ , he wants to add.

"Good. At least go home and take a bath." Mateus has that smile again.

"I don't have to drag you home after a hangover today," Sephiroth mutters.

"Remember to apply lotion after you finish taking a bath. A BATH, not a shower," Kuja adds, his face uncannily serious. "I always drink lots of water to promote healthy skin development."

Jecht follows the strange group as they check their groceries. Once outside, he turns around.  
"How about we hang out after I finish?"

The men steal glances at each other. "At whose house?" Kuja asks.

"I have yet to clean up the mess of paper at mine," Sephiroth says quickly.

"You can come to mine and admire these portraits I've painted of myself!" Kuja says. The others' looks range from sympathy to disgust. They unanimously rule him out.

"My house stinks," Jecht says to seal the deal.

Mateus frowns. "Very well. I'll treat all of you to a _proper_ meal at my house. On the condition that you leave your shoes outside."

"Sounds reasonable," Sephiroth says.

"I'll bring some beer!" Jecht says.

"Haven't you learnt your lesson?" Mateus snaps. "And besides, your beer isn't… up to par, anyways."

"I think I have leftover fruit juice for the students," Sephiroth says slowly. "And pretzels."

"I don't want stale pretzels! How about we cook our own meals!" Kuja exclaims, his eyes wide.

Jecht struggles to imagine three grown men and… Kuja wearing aprons, crowded in the kitchen while waiting for the kettle to boil.

But Mateus already has his hand on his chin. "Interesting. I'll treat you to this new recipe I've been thinking of making. No one volunteered to try it. Not even Ultimeica, who usually has an eye for fine dining."

 _And for good reason,_ Jecht wants to add, but keeps his mouth shut.

"I can throw something together," Sephiroth says. At least Jecht can trust his cooking, because Sephiroth is very picky about his food. Neat freak #2.

And if Kuja's good for anything, it's his utmost attention to cooking. The boy has the most colorful display of noodles Jecht had ever seen.

"I can't wait!" Kuja exclaims. And neither can Jecht, who's continually grateful for such eccentric neighbors.


	2. New Neighbors

****RE-UPLOADED TO KEEP CONTINUATION****

* * *

Jecht's morning begins with a knock on the door. It is a polite knock, different from his other eccentric neighbors. With a brush full of toothpaste in his mouth, he stumbles to the living room.

"Hello," the man says. He wears a sharp black suit with small white dots that remind Jecht of stars. In fact, his tie contains small blue moons, ranging from full to crescents.

"Hey," Jecht says slowly. "You here for something?"

The man gives him a polite smile. "We just moved into the neighborhood and would like to introduce ourselves," he begins in a heavy voice. "My name is Golbez. And this is my younger brother Cecil. Golbez and Cecil Harvey."

Jecht almost overlooked the smaller boy behind Golbez. They share the same eyes and hair. The same glowing skin that is _guaranteed_ to make Kuja jealous.

"Hello," Cecil says softly.

"Why're you wearing lipstick, boy?" Unlike his other neighbors, Jecht doesn't have a filter for words. But it never bothered him, and they got used to it. He squints at the purple hue on Cecil's lips. _Couldn't be a little older than his stupid son._

Color rises to the boy's pale cheeks, like a ruby glimmering in the night. Golbez cuts in gently. "That's his favorite color. I believe he's in the phrase where he wants to express himself."

Cecil covers his face with his hands. Jecht grins. "I know another fellow here who _loves_ to express himself. Maybe you'll understand what he's always rambling about.

"Sorry about that." Jecht opens the door wider. "My name's Jecht." He grips Golbez's strong arms. Not as ripped as his, though. "Come in!"

The two brothers follow Jecht into the main room. Cecil trudges in behind Golbez while still covering his mouth. The stench of sweat and chlorine brings water to their eyes.

"Do you live by yourself?" Golbez says lightly, noting the pile of clothes and weights on the floor.

"My son, Tidus, is at school right now." Jecht gathers the socks strewn about on the sofa and tosses them aside. "Usually I stay at home and take care of things." He ambles to the back, where Golbez can hear him turn the water on. There's a violent ripping sound, to which he assumes is gurgling.

"T-take your time," Golbez says.

Cecil is looking around the room when something catches his eyes. "Golbez, look." The mantle displays several colorful pictures of what he presumes is Jecht's family. Most of the pictures feature the man with a tanned, grumbling boy with straw-blond hair. It's as if Cecil is witnessing a progression of love to annoyance through Jecht's memories. Others feature a group of men (and a girl?) in various backgrounds-playing pool, cooking, etc. Unlike the mess strewn around the house, these pictures are clean, as if someone had tended them with gentle hands.

Golbez taps his chin. "He's a good fellow." A particular picture catches his eye. Unlike the other male-dominated portraits, this one features a woman. She holds a baby in her arms. On her right, Jecht has his hands on her shoulder, but unlike the rough, loud man Golbez had seen, this one is gentler, sadder…

 _Fragile._

"Sorry to keep you waiting!" Jecht bursts into the room with a triumphant grin. He managed to finish shaving and found a pair of cleaner pants. "What's with the long faces? Sit down! Let me get you some beer."

"No, thank you," Golbez says. "I don't drink." Cecil shakes his head.

"Geez. Another one." Jecht drops down on the couch. "So Golbez and Cecil, right? Those are some crafty names!"

"Um… thank you," Cecil mumbles.

"Where are you two from?"

"We're from the West. We came here to have a change of scenery." Golbez chuckles good-naturedly. "See, where we're from, the days are short, but the nights are cold and long. I'm also hoping to find a better field for my research, and Cecil's excited about transferring to the Dissidia University here."

"Brother…" Cecil mutters.

Jecht's grin lights up. "Well, you're in luck! Tidus is currently a first year. I also happen to know someone who teaches there, so if you have any questions about enrollment, feel free to ask!" Then he turns his attention to Golbez. "What are you researching, Golbez?"

"I'm currently reading on the functions of the Moon," he replies with a small but proud smile.

"That's wicked! I'm into astrology myself!"

"No, no." Golbez has a smile that Jecht doesn't like. A smile that reminds him of a certain fruit salad. "I'm into astronomy. My research is about the universe, not people." Even Cecil is hiding a grin.

The grin vanishes from Jecht's face, replaced with an exasperated frown. "I knew that," he mutters, looking away. "I have a fr— _neighbor_ " –Jecht almost chokes on his spit – "that publishes huge reports on different things. He mentioned something about the moon, but he was way over his head."

Golbez has this amused look on his face. "You certainly know a lot of people. If you don't mind, will you introduce me one day?"

"Sure. They're my neighbors though, but they're at work right now." Jecht glances at the clock. Then a brilliant idea flashes through his mind, and his usual spunk returns in the form of a large grin. "Actually… they might be home any minute! I can introduce y'all, but then I'll have to pick up my son."

"That late?" Golbez says.

"He has clubs." At the mentioning of school, Cecil straightens."Yep. When he gets home, I'll introduce the two of you. Right now…" Jecht stares at his clock. "Oh! He should be back! Let's go!" He bounces off the sofa before the siblings can react. Golbez shouts something about putting on a shirt.

"Um… Mister Jecht?" Cecil says as they make way to the neighbor's house.

"Huh?"

"Do you get along with your son?"

That question takes him by surprise. "Of course! He might be a wishy-washy, hard-headed doofus, but he's still my damn son!" Then he squints at Cecil. "Why?"

"I'm just glad to hear that." Cecil smiles.

 _...Something about that kid's eyes makes Jecht uncomfortable, but he can't place it.  
_

* * *

Jecht's neighbor keeps his eyes on the new siblings as they approach. "Your name is Golbez?" He crosses his arms with a faint, smug twitch on his lips. Golbez notices that his wine-colored suit might out-price a small home.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mister…"

"Just call me Mateus. Mateus is fine." He extends his arm, like a king handing a decree of war onto his enemy. Golbez reluctantly takes the cold but strangely soft hand. The man smells like aloe. And fruit. "I'm honored to have someone of worthy intellect on our block."

Something about that statement makes Jecht want to punch Mateus in the face, but he can't place it.

"Likewise," Golbez says slowly. Mateus appraises Cecil next, taking in his luminescent skin and hair.

"Cecil. Continue taking good care of your skin. Though I wouldn't recommend that shade of purple."

Cecil blushes into his hands.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with putting lipstick!" Another boy cuts in. He looks the same age as Cecil, but Golbez has the feeling he might be older.

"Um… was it Kuja?" Cecil mutters.

"Yours truly!" Kuja curtsies to the two of them. "I have an extensive collection of knowledge on proper skin health. In addition, I consider myself an expert on theatre. You two have potential to be in one of my productions down the line." This one, Golbez notices, is more flamboyant that Mateus, with outfits that remind him of those plays they used to preform, a long, long time ago.

Just then, a black moped pulls into the driveway.

"Why are you standing on my yard?" The man snaps as he unbuckles his helmet. Golbez notices the large briefcase at his side, along with his strict, all-black getup.

"Good timing! Golbez and Cecil Harvey. This is Seph." Jecht ambles over and swings an arm over the irritated man. "He teaches at the University Tidus is at. Plus, he's also with the government!"

"You talk too much," he mutters, pushing Jecht off. "Don't shove your dirty armpit in my face." Then he extends his hand to Golbez. "I've never seen your face before. Welcome."

"Thank you, uh, Seph?"

"Sephiroth," he says quickly. "Sephiroth is fine." Golbez notices the ID on his chest. A strange-looking one. Before he can comment, Sephiroth tears it off.

"Um… Professor Sephiroth?" Cecil shuffles closer to the towering man, who regards his purple lips with a slight frown but remains silent. "I-I look forward to being in your class."

"Hm. Don't get your hopes up, Mister Harvey. You haven't enrolled yet." Behind his stoic expression, Jecht can see him fighting back a smirk.

"Why are you back so early, Sephiroth?" Kuja says. "I thought you were still teaching."

"My classes are done for today. And I had… a situation to resolve." It might be that bulky briefcase around his shoulder. Or it might be those dark bags under his eyes, or the faint bruises near his temples. Either way, Golbez worries about that man's job.

"Cecil's much more docile than your son, Jecht," Mateus says after a brief silence. Jecht steels his knuckles. "Please feel free to visit my museum, both of you. I can give you a tour, or answer any questions you might have regarding ancient history."

"Feel free to come to my Opera too!" Kuja chimes in. "I can't wait to show you the plays I'm working on. Plus, you can even come to my humble abode! I'm in the process of painting myself into a fresco."

Golbez isn't sure how to reply. Cecil, on the other hand, is politely containing his laughter.

Jecht grins again. "Well. These are the neighbors, Golbez and Cecil Harvey. If you need anything, just ask them. Or me." Then he turns to Sephiroth. "Hey, can I borrow your moped? My motorcycle's out of gas."

"Your motorcycle's _always_ out of gas." Sephiroth frowns.

"I can't help it! Someone's gotta do the shopping and cleaning around here! That boy needs to learn how to eat healthy! Come on, pal!"

Sephiroth shoots Mateus and Kuja a glare. "Why don't you borrow _their_ vehicles? I doubt Tidus wants to see you on a moped."

Mateus waves his hand dismissively. "My car is exclusive. I don't trust Jecht to put his sweaty paws on the wheel." The urge to punch that man has never been greater. But Jecht has a reputation to protect... at least in front of his new neighbors.

"Your car is a fossil!" Kuja laughs. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, all the grace fades from Mateus's face. Jecht begins to laugh, but his face muscles refuse to correspond. That might've saved his life. "You should upgrade to a sedan! One day, that thing will break down into a pile of ash."

"But I have a driver's license," Mateus says with a mirthless smirk. "Your bicycle's not the most…cunning innovation, Kuja."

Kuja raises his pedicured nails, as if he's conjuring a spell.

"They're always like this," Jecht says to the bewildered siblings. "Sorry."

"Jecht." Sephiroth hands him the keys and helmet. He messages his temples where the bruises are. Tidus's father beams. "At least wear a shirt before you go."

After Jecht speeds off into the distance, the three neighbors turn to the siblings.

"I apologize for that," Mateus says with a kinder smile. "But I do hope you'll grow fond of living here."

"Thank you…" Golbez trails off.

As they head back, Cecil speaks up, "Um… can I ask the three of you something? Is it only the two of them at home?"

The three of them exchange glances, as if silently communicating through eyes. Golbez begins to reprimand Cecil when Kuja speaks up. "Yeah. It's only been the two of them. When I first moved here, I've only seen him and Tidus."

"What makes you say that, Mister Harvey?" Mateus says nonchalantly, although his eyes betray a different tone.

"Um…I was just wondering."

"You've seen the portraits," Sephiroth says. Cecil finally nods. "Yes, I do believe they were a family at one point. Aside from his rambunctious attitude, he has a good heart."

Mateus crosses his arms. "We know he's been taking care of Tidus by himself. It must've been hard on him, but he's still stubborn as a mule."

"I've always wanted to clean his house," Kuja adds with a small smile.

Golbez blinks. Despite their neighbors' eccentricity, they all seem to understand each other.

"Perhaps he'll tell you about it in due time," Mateus continues with a mysterious smile. "For now, I suggest we show you how things work around here until he gets back. That's our welcome."

Cecil nods. He grips his brother's sleeve. The two siblings follow their neighbors into the horizon; when they pass Jecht's house, Golbez feels a twinge of sadness in his stomach. Cecil attempts a consoling smile.

"I've already told you, Sephiroth," Mateus is saying, jarring Golbez out of his thoughts. "You should get a car. They're much more sophisticated than what you have now."

"But they make me uncomfortable. I feel… trapped, in lack of a better word."

"Mopeds aren't manly!"

"Kuja, you don't really portray that word very well."

"H-huh? Are you ganging up on me now?"

The group continues bickering as they proceed down the street, the two siblings laughing behind them.


	3. Father and Son

When Jecht pulls up to the University entrance, he spots that stupid yellow head in the midst of color.

"Get on, squirt!" he hollers.

That head snaps to his voice, and the cheeky grin dissipates into an exasperated scowl.

"Who's that, Tidus?" an upperclassman drones. There's no excitement in his voice. There never was.

"I don't know." Tidus keeps his gaze to the ground. "Never met him in my life."

"HEY!" Jecht's voice shreds across the air. Almost every head turns to the strange half-dressed man on the black moped. Tidus wishes he can melt into the pavement.

"TIDUS! You can't pretend not to hear me!"

"Look. I'm pretty sure you know each other. He's going to get arrested if he keeps this up."

"No! No we don't!" Tidus snaps. "I can care less if he gets caught." The upperclassman gives Tidus a weird look. Whenever his face scrunches up, the scar across his nose hitches like a mountain's shadow. Like a lion seizing its prey. "We don't, Squall," Tidus adds weakly.

"Hey, Tidus!" One of his friends scrambles through the excited crowd. "Isn't that your dad?"

"Bartz!" Tidus hisses. He feels everybody's gazes intensifying on the back.

"I knew it." Squall crosses his arms. "Look. You're in college now. I expect you to be the last person to be embarrassed like that!"

"You don't understand!" Then someone grabs him by the collar. That enormous strength yanks him forward, and the students part themselves as if making way for a king. No one steps in to help, despite his protests and pleas.

Jecht dumps Tidus on the moped. "Helmet, in case your brains fall out."

"I'm not coming home!" Tidus cries, tossing the helmet aside. "How many times do I have to tell you, old man?"

"You didn't come home for the Holidays!" Jecht struggles to keep a casual tone. "Two weeks! What could you possibly do here for two weeks?"

"I was hanging out with my friends!" Tidus hollers back. As the two argue, Squall, fulfilling the role of Parking Enforcement, threatens the crowd with public solicitation charges if they didn't leave. His icy eyes, along with his scar and steel-toe boots, justifies his threat. It might not be legal, but he's the only one people take seriously in Parking Enforcement.

"Damn! I called you so many times, but you never picked up!"

"I was busy!"

"Busy doing what?!" Jecht's voice gains a dangerous edge. The jovial, happy-go-lucky attitude disappears. Even Tidus shrinks at this rare change in personality. "You don't return my calls. You expect me to just _sign_ your waivers without explaining what they are? You really think you're ready to be damn independent, aren't you, ungrateful brat?!"

Then Tidus's head snaps up. "I've _been_ independent ever since Mom died!"

Jecht's face freezes. Those words slam into his heart as if Tidus had rammed a hammer into his skull. He'd survived animal attacks, shootings, and death-defying stunts. But somehow… somehow those words cut deep into his heart.

Tidus refuses to look at his dad.

Squall approaches them. "I know I shouldn't interfere in your personal affairs," he says slowly, flatly. "But you should go home this weekend, Tidus. There's no events any time soon."

Silence. Uncharacteristic silence from the loudest people he knew. Squall clears his throat again.

"Look. This is a public school. Don't bring your personal problems to cause a bigger ruckus. Just go home already."

Jecht picks up the helmet from the ground. He kicks the moped in gear and speeds off without another word.

Squall watches as Tidus's dad disappears into the horizon. Then he turns. "Tidus."

"I-I didn't mean that," the boy stammers, his voice thick. "He just kept egging me… And… and…"

Squall simply shakes his head, leaving Tidus to his own confused thoughts.

* * *

"I'd never thought I'd see the day when you drink yourself to death," Mateus says with that smile. That smile that he hated.

"Screw you." Jecht downs another can.

Mateus sits himself to the only clean spot on the sofa. He withdraws a paper fan from his sleeve. "Really. I'm surprised you didn't faint from your own stench."

"Shaddup." Jecht begins another can when Mateus stops his hand.

"Listen to me, Jecht." His usually smug expression is nowhere to be seen. His usually arrogant voice, now heavy and serious, trickles into his ears. "You can't resolve your problems by drinking. You'll only destroy yourself."

Jecht draws his lips. "What the hell do you know, you conceited jerk?"

Mateus has a hard smirk on his lips. "Oh. I know." His hand absently drops to his ring finger. Through his hazy vision, Jecht notices a beam of light through that man's skin. Or maybe that's his imagination.

"Does he hate me? Damn. Every time I try to talk to him, it's like talking to a wall!" Jecht's head is pounding. Maybe he had too much to drink. Maybe.

Mateus only gives him a small smile. "Children. You can't figure them out until you've messed up."

"Tell me about it." He grabs his head. "Dammit. Stupid boy. Stuuuuuupid."

While Jecht embraces his hangover, Mateus focuses his attention on the mantle. More specifically, the pictures. The faint line around his ring finger begins to burn.

"Is he feeling better?" A new voice snaps him from his reverie.

"I don't think so." To emphasize that point, Jecht howls and complains about that stupid, spoiled brat.

"Hmm. And he cleaned up for nothing." Sephiroth pulls the curtains open. The dismal afternoon glow floods into the room, staining the floor in a deep violet. "And it's already dark," he says with narrowed eyes. "He's been at this for a few hours."

"Damn right," Jecht slurs from the sofa.

Mateus fans at the smell of cheap beer. "His son didn't want to come home. And he's beating himself up for it."

"Hmm." Sephiroth sinks into the chair opposite of Mateus. "And how are you doing?"

"I'm here as his emotional support."

Sephiroth retains his doubtful frown. "You're going to bruise your finger if you keep rubbing it like that."

His smug expression almost cracks. Almost. Sometimes, he forgets how frightening his neighbor's sense of observation was. If he isn't careful, Sephiroth could read him like a book.

"Where's Kuja?" Mateus says lightly.

"He has a recital today." Sephiroth still doesn't take his eyes off of Mateus's habit.

"How about the brothers?"

"They're still getting used to the neighborhood."

A heavy silence follows, broken only by snoring which can only be attributed to an elephant.

"At least he's sleeping in his house," Mateus says with a kinder smile.

"Finally something we can agree on," Sephiroth replies with a smirk. Then he adds in a lower voice. "I think you should stay with him today. Just in case he has an emergency."

"Why me?"

"Because you two have much more in common." Before Mateus can react, Sephiroth rises and dusts his pants. "He might have alcohol poisoning. Or complications involving that. It's better to have someone be by his side."

"Sephiroth," Mateus says as his neighbor heads to the door.

"What?"

"I thought that we agreed to keep out of each other's businesses. Don't just assume things about me."

To that, Sephiroth smirks. The afternoon glow outlines his form, as if Mateus is seeing an angel. An angel of death.

"I don't assume things if I know they aren't true."

Then he's gone. Mateus glares at the space where he had been just seconds ago. The house feels off without sound—he can hear the fridge with its dull hum-the pipes gurgling, the blinds clicking against the windows.

There's a reason he doesn't get along with Sephiroth. It's not because he dislikes the teacher. It's… more personal. If he doesn't keep his mental walls up, then all his contents would spill out. And no one was better than piecing his past like the Chief Interrogator of the Federal Government.

Jecht stirs in the sofa, jarring Mateus into the present.

"I hate it when you're right," he mutters to himself as he places a pillow under Jecht's head. He heads to the bookshelf—the one intelligent thing Jecht had—and leafs through the spines. His fingers hover above a thick brown book. _A family album. A yearbook._

 _I thought that we agreed to keep out of each other's businesses._

 _If only it was so easy._ Mateus cracks a weak smile. "Using my own words against me. How fitting." He finally decides on taking a pad of paper. As Jecht snores away, his thoughts trickle down into the empty canvas.

"There once was a family of three," he begins. "The father, mother, and a beautiful young daughter. The daughter was loved. Her parents worked excessively to make sure she would never struggle like they had. They got her everything she wanted. But… no matter how much wealth they had, there was one thing they could never give her…"


	4. The Dream

SUMMARY: Kuja uses his dreams as inspiration for his performances. But not this particular dream.

* * *

 _ **RING! RING! RING!**_

That infernal racket causes his dream to burn up in smoke. Literally. Jecht buries his head under the pillows.

 _ **RING! RING!**_

 _Who the hell calls at this hour? It couldn't be his rambunctious neighbors. Could it be..?_

Jecht almost trips over his own feet. The moon is still high in the sky. The neighborhood is blissfully quiet. Was. _Was_ blissfully quiet.

The silence unnerves him.

"What?" His voice sounds harsher than he intended.

" _Um… Jecht?"_

Even in his drunken state of sleep, something feels off about that voice. _Oh. It's not…_ He rubs his eyes. "Kuja? What the hell?"

" _I apologize for this sudden call, but are you free right now?"_

Jecht glances in the direction of Kuja's house. It's dark, like the others. "What's wrong with you? You sound different."

" _Erm… I…"_ The line goes still for a moment. _"Um… sorry. Nevermind."_

"Wait a damn minute. Something's wrong, isn't it?" The adrenaline is pumping into his heart. "What's the matter, Kuja?"

Silence. _"Um… I don't know."_

"Dammit Kuja." A cold, raw feeling gnaws at his stomach. He looks around the room. Maybe it was the fact that nighttime numbed his reactions. The right words aren't reaching his mind. "Don't go anywhere, okay? I'll be right over."

"… _Thank you."_ Jecht slams the phone down and hobbles to the restroom.

* * *

 _ **RING!**_

His hand flies to the phone. "Yes?"

" _Hey, Emperor."_

Mateus almost puts the phone down, but something in that brat's voice makes him uneasy. "Kuja?"

" _Um… yeah. Were you expecting someone else?"_

Mateus frowns, but the trepidation still shows through his breathlessness. He reaches to lower the brightness of his lamps. "What is it?"

" _Um… what are you doing?"_

"Nothing." His heart is calming down. He busies himself with cleaning his desk. The books go back on the shelf; old souvenirs go back to being mere memories. He leans back in his chair. Tiny dust particles swivel in the lamps' light, swirling up to the ceiling.

"Reading," Mateus says again.

Kuja hesitates as if he wants to say something. _"Um… nevermind. You're pretty busy."_

"I'm a fast reader," Mateus says sharply. "Do you need something from me?" He could've asked why Kuja was calling so late. He could've asked him so many things, but now is not the right time.

" _Um… erm…"_

That brat was never known to be the silent type. Something is wrong.

"If you open within three seconds, I'm leaving." Mateus puts the phone down. As he closes his study, his eyes graze upon a photo on the floor. He reaches to pick it up…but stops. Then he turns and closes the door, letting the moon obscure the contents in light.

* * *

" _ **Ri—"**_

Out of pure instinct, he snatches the phone before it finishes. "What is it?" His voice is sharp, cold, and commanding.

" _O-oh. H-h-hello, S-Sephiroth."_

Sephiroth narrows his eyes. "Kuja?"

" _U-Uh… Y-yesh."_

"What are you doing up so late?"

" _Uh… I can ask you the same thing."_

Sephiroth leans forward with the phone sandwiched between his ear and shoulder. "I need to finish some paperwork." The glasses are slipping from his nose. He reaches a jug of coffee. "What do you need?"

" _Um. What type of paperwork?"_

"Classified." The documents are getting more ridiculous with each one. Sephiroth is tempted to mash them into one big paper ball and launch it in the trash. Signature. No signature. "But I've finished grading assignments, so I should be close to finishing."

" _What time do you usually sleep?"_

"I lost count after a while." The coffee is also losing its effectiveness: he almost signed the wrong paper before he catches himself. "So why are you still awake?"

" _I can't sleep."_

"Hmm. Interesting." He's almost out of coffee for the week. His temples are beginning to hurt again, and there's still so many reports to analyze. "Insomnia?"

" _I don't think so."_

The moon is high in the sky, and the streets are dangerously calm. _Tick. Tock._ The clock continues its demanding round. "Paranoia?" If he doesn't keep talking, then he's afraid his brain might stop altogether.

"… _Kind of."_

The light stings his eyes. Sephiroth takes off his reading glasses and blinks hard. "Are you in danger?"

" _No! At least… I don't think so."_

Sephiroth leans back in his chair. He takes a nice, long inhale. "Kuja," he begins in a lower, calmer voice. "Do you mind if I drop by?"

" _No! Not at all!" Please,_ he almost hears.

Sephiroth grabs his coat and slams the door behind him.

* * *

"Welcome to the party, Seph!"

"I told you not to call me that, Jecht," Sephiroth mutters as Kuja takes his coat.

"I see you've also been invited to this charade," Mateus drawls from the beautifully-decorated couch.

"You're one to talk," Sephiroth says with a smirk.

Kuja attempts a smile. "Thank you for coming so late." His usual flamboyance is nowhere to be found. His neighbors exchange glances. This boy before them is someone else entirely. He's even wearing normal sleep clothes.

"So what's the matter?" Jecht says softly. Despite the tense atmosphere, he still cannot believe how _beautiful_ this boy's house is. Paintings stretch as far as the eye can see, complemented with rising windows and antique furniture.

Kuja sinks into a couch. There are dark bags under his eyes. "I had a nightmare."

Mateus opens his mouth to say something. But whatever it was, he decides against it.

"Was it scary?" Jecht says.

"I dreamt that we were fighting each other. You, me, Emperor, and Sephiroth. We were one the same side, and yet it felt like we were plotting against each other."

Sephiroth's lips twitch, but he doesn't say anything.

"We were in a world," Kuja continues, as if in a trance. "It was a weird world, as if it was connected through other realms. There was a big, dark place with crystals. A huge, ruined stadium with no souls in sight. A castle that in purgatory… and this place with green walls." Kuja rubs his arms. "Heaven? Hell? I'm not sure. But… it was so cold…"

"Wow." Kuja's descriptions are so vivid, Jecht can swear he'd seen them before. "That's a crazy load of bu—"

"Language," Mateus cuts in.

"Budwash," Jecht mutters. "Why were we fighting, though?"

Kuja shakes his head. "I don't know. But I saw this great demon lord killing a woman clad in gold." He looks up at each of them. "Maybe we were fighting for something bigger. Something that concerned the whole world."

Mateus laces his hands. "That's quite a burden."

"Emperor. In my dream, you looked like a demon." To that, Mateus perks up. He regards Kuja with a careful, shielded set of eyes but says nothing. "You had horns. And golden armor. And a long staff that looked like something out of hell. And you were fighting someone with roses."

"Roses," Mateus echoes.

Jecht laughs. "Roses! Boy, Kuja, that's a wild imagination you have! Ain't that right, Mateus!" Jecht nudges Mateus with his elbow, but the other man has an expression that terrifies him.

"Uh… Mateus? You don't like roses?"

"I… detest them. I abhor roses." Mateus's tone signals the end of that topic. But Jecht won't let it slide so easily. Not yet. Maybe some other time.

"Was I fighting someone?" Jecht says to change the topic.

Kuja purses his lips. There's something in the boy's eyes that he doesn't like. "I forgot."

"Liar."

Kuja keeps his gaze on the floor. "Really. I couldn't see their face."

"I won't be offended if it's someone I know!" Jecht says with a grin. The suspense is killing him. "I get along with everyone! Come on, Kuja; you're not gonna hurt anyone by revealing that poor chump's face!"

Shadows bathe Kuja's young face. Mateus and Sephiroth exchange another glance. Jecht remains the only oblivious one to Kuja's facial message:

" _You're wrong, Jecht. Your heart will never heal."_

"Jecht," Sephiroth says nonchalantly, "If Kuja doesn't remember, let it be. Don't pressure him."

Kuja looks up. "You were transforming into some kind of monster, Jecht."

"Huh? What kind of mf is this?" Jecht finally sighs. "You can remember that, but you don't remember who I was fighting against. That's why I don't like dreams."

"Sephiroth."

The man's face remains neutral, but his eyes are on alert.

"You… were an angel."

If it's not for the seriousness of the situation, Jecht would've laughed out loud. Even Mateus shoots Kuja a weird look. Sephiroth clears his throat.

"Kuja. I'm not into that—"

"Well… not really an angel. You fought a man with a large sword while controlling an impossibly long one yourself. You only had one wing, and it was black as the night."

Sephiroth's eyebrows shoots to his forehead. "That's not scientifically possible." For the first time, Jecht hears the uncertainty in his usually stoic neighbor's voice. "How can I fly with one wing?"

"The books would refer to you as a 'fallen angel.'" Mateus shifts in his seat, his usual smugness returning. "You probably fell out of favor."

Instead of returning a cocky retort, Sephiroth stares into the darkness with a wistful expression. Jecht can see his cold, calculating mind analyzing the dream; he can see the gears turning and crumbling down to dust.

"Who were _you_ fighting, Kuja?"

Kuja's face darkens immediately. With what? Hatred? Envy? Regret? It's hard to tell the emotions flashing across his face.

"Was it someone you know?" Jecht says softly.

"Yes," he whispers. The three neighbors wait in silence. _Tick. Tock._ The night trickles by like morphine dripping from an IV. Sleepiness tugs at Jecht's eyes, but he refuses to fail his friend.

"It's up to Kuja whether he wants to tell us," Mateus hisses into Jecht's ear before he can push the topic further.

Then Kuja smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Can that be for another time?"

"Of course." Sephiroth checks his wristwatch. "It's high time for you to sleep anyways. Especially you, Kuja. Didn't you tell me that staying up causes wrinkles?"

"Yeah." Kuja's smile widens.

"At this rate, you're on the road to becoming Jecht," Mateus says. "Ashy, loud, and smelly."

Kuja's lips twitch.

Jecht winces at his words, but it he's glad his neighbors are back. "At least I don't attract bees with my smell!"

"Watch it."

Kuja laughs. His voice rises to his usual, dramatically, annoying octave. He laughs so much that Jecht joins in, and the two fill the house with sound. Mateus is smirking, and Sephiroth is watching rubbing his temples. Kuja's neighbors decide to spend the night, just in case he has another bad dream.

Soon the living room is sprouting a beautiful cacophony of snoring and breathing.

After they all went to sleep, Kuja heads back to his room. He glances back at his neighbors, sprawled on the sofa and floor. Skin flakes everywhere. Eww.

"Thank you." He'll just have to clean up tomorrow. Tomorrow, he reminds himself. Unlike the dream, they'll still be alive tomorrow.


	5. The Snake Lady

SUMMARY: The neighbors search for the owner of a lost pet.

* * *

"Hey, Golbez!"

The door creaks open, and a very weary Golbez squints into the person on the other side. "Jecht?"

Jecht grins. It's a wider, toothier grin that usual today. "You have time to help me with something? Cecil can come too!" He has one hand behind his back.

Golbez considers closing the door. "Cecil's busy with his transfer application." _Jecht isn't the type to have his feelings hurt, right?_ "And I'm quite tired from research. Why don't you get the others to help you?"

"I don't want to exclude you from the excitement!"

Golbez purses his lips. "Hold on. Let me see if Cecil's free." Jecht's grin grows wider as his neighbor shuffles out of sight. They're all gonna love this!

Then the miniature version of Golbez appears in the doorway. "Hello, Mister Jecht."

"Hey, squirt! Still at it again with the lipstick, huh?"

Golbez quickly steps in. "So what do you need us for, Jecht?"

Now Jecht's grin makes Golbez uneasy. "You won't believe this. Shush." If he listens very carefully, he can hear a hissing sound nearby. Gas? The sprinklers?

"What do you have behind your back?" Golbez sighs. He doesn't really want to know.

"Surprise!"

Cecil jumps back as the snake springs up from Jecht's palms. Golbez puts an arm between Cecil and Jecht. "Don't worry! She won't bite."

"H-how are you sure?"

"Because she hasn't bitten me yet!" The snake curls around Jecht's arms like a vine. It nuzzles his shoulders. "Look how sweet she is!"

"Jecht. If it bites my brother, then I swear—"

Cecil breaks through his brother's protection. "B-brother! It's okay. I'm not hurt. It just surprised me."

"But—"

"I found it on my yard," Jecht continues as if nothing had happened. "I knew it couldn't be any of theirs. Kuja would flip out if there's a pet in his house. I've never seen Seph with pets. And though Mateus might look the part, I doubt he lets snakes into his house."

Golbez frowns at the snake. It doesn't look poisonous. But it's limp and has a faded golden color. It looks more of a tendril than a snake. "How are you so sure it's a pet?"

"Because these types of snakes don't appear in the wild!" Jecht says as if that explains everything. "These creatures are definitely under someone's care. Look at how well-fed and clean they are!"

 _I doubt about the well-fed part._ "And you want us to help you find the owner." Golbez sighs. Jecht beams.

"I don't mind helping!" Cecil says. "If I were the owner, I'd be worried if my pets ran away. After all, they're all family."

Jecht gives me a weird look. Then he shrugs before Cecil noticed the change of behavior. "The more the merrier! Come on, come on, come on!" The snake clings to his armpit with his gestures.

"What's he so excited about?" Golbez mutters as he hurries to catch up to Jecht, who is already racing down the block.

"Maybe he doesn't want to keep its family waiting," Cecil says.

Golbez blinks. "What do you mean?"

His brother looks down at his shadow. "Oh. Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

* * *

Golbez isn't surprised that the first house Jecht barges into is Sephiroth's. The door barely opened when he stumbled into the house with a hissing snake on his head.

"Stop," Sephiroth snaps in a tone that even Golbez winces. Even though they are roughly the same height, Sephiroth's glare manages to pierce through Jecht's back and into Golbez's own.

But the effect only lasts a few seconds on Jecht. "Hey, Seph! Look what I found!"

"No shoes in the house."

"I have something better to show you." The snake slowly unfurls itself to match Sephiroth's chilly gaze. Even the snake appears nervous. _Can snakes even feel emotion?_ Golbez holds his breath.

"No pets in the house," Sephiroth says after another brief silence.

Golbez clears his throat. "Um. How do you know it's a pet?"

Sephiroth almost smirks. "Because a wild snake would've bitten Jecht by now. And surprisingly enough, the animals seem to like him more."

"H-hello, Professor," Cecil squeaks.

Sephiroth's neutral expression returns. "Good morning, Mister Harvey. What's the progress on the applications?"

"It's going well. I just need to sign off a few things."

"Good. Don't procrastinate." Then he turns to Golbez. "And I assume Jecht forced you to come with him to look for the owner?"

"T-that's right. How—"

"Because that's what Jecht would do." Sephiroth waves them aside as he locates his boots.

"Aren't those military things uncomfortable?" Jecht says, looking down at his own flip-flops. The snake hisses in agreement.

"You get used to it."

"Where are you going?" Golbez says.

"I can't get anything done once Jecht makes up his mind about something," Sephiroth replies with a playful smirk. "It's better to get this over with before he gives me a headache."

"You're the best, Seph!" Jecht roars. Sephiroth frowns, and his fingers unconsciously shoot to his temples.

"Out."

Something prompts Golbez to look back. Was it the back of his consciousness? A brief _something_ yelled at him to look back. Something strange was inside the house. He only catches a glimpse before Sephiroth slams the door behind them.

"What's the matter?" Sephiroth says.

"I… I thought I left something behind."

"Hm. I don't think so. If you did, I'd notice."

Cecil pulls Golbez aside as they head to the next house. "You're looking pretty pale," he whispers. "And that's saying something!"

Golbez frowns as he tries to remember the sensation. "Didn't you feel that Sephiroth's house was… odd?"

"Odd?"

"I… Never mind." He doesn't recall what made his hairs stand on edge. Only a slight tingling sensation remains in his brain. "I didn't get enough sleep last night."

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"Come on, Kuja! Won't you rather interact with nature instead of staying cooped up in the house all day?"

" _Why_ would I slave away at my precious meditation time to help that… _thing?_ " Kuja squints at the snake, who in turn snaps its jaws at the boy. "It's… ugly!"

"There's nothing wrong with being ugly," Cecil says slowly.

"That's what you common folk don't understand!" Kuja shakes his head to exaggerate the lusciousness of his hair. "I just took a bath, so I don't want the humidity to ruin my image!"

"If only Mateus was here to roast him," Jecht mutters to a nodding Sephiroth. The siblings remain silent.

"And besides," Kuja says with a curt smile, "We don't even know who the owner is! She must have a bad taste in pets."

"H-how do you know the owner's a woman?" Golbez says.

"Because the pet is obviously well-cared for! And it regards its owner as a maternal figure." Kuja juts his chin to the snake as it drapes itself on Jecht's head. The reptile's tongue pecks at his forehead.

"A maternal figure? I don't follow you," Sephiroth says. He sounds bored, but his eyes are on alert.

"You can just _tell._ But, of course, there are always exceptions."

Jecht scratches his head. He scratches the snake's head, and it nuzzles his cheek. Golbez keeps his comments to himself.

"So can you tell us who the owner is?" he says.

Kuja taps a pedicured finger to his spotless chin. "I'm not a miracle worker, Golbez. I'm just saying what I know." He crosses his arms. "Although it's rare for a person to have a snake as a pet. I personally prefer a dragon myself."

"A dragon," his neighbors echo.

Jecht shakes his head. "Wait. But we need your help to find the owner!"

Kuja sniffs and closes his eyes.

"We can't do it without you," Sephiroth adds. "We need someone to coordinate our search efforts."

"And that person must possess great leadership skills," Cecils chimes in, catching on.

"Kuja. We need a talented fellow like you," Golbez says. He doesn't feel good about this. He'll have to apologize to the boy later. Sephiroth catches his gaze and smirks.

"Hehe." Kuja deftly tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. "When you ask for help like that, how can I refuse? You need my talents? You got them!" He shuts the door behind with and grins with newfound enthusiasm. "Never fear! The great detective is on the case!"

"Here we go again," Golbez hears Jecht mutter. The snake hisses.

Then a familiar voice interrupts the celebration. "You'll only be disillusioned if you continue your charade, Kuja."

"Emperor!"

Mateus rests his hands on the fence line. Today he dyed his hair blond again. "What did I miss?"

"We're searching for the owner of this girl." Jecht shows him the snake.

"A fine pet, if I do say so myself. I'd prefer it to be violet."

"A violet snake," Sephiroth says with a frown.

"There's always pests in my garden," Mateus says. "So if the snakes do their job, then I have less to worry about."

"Do you know who the owner could be?" Golbez says.

"Don't ask him! I can figure it out," Kuja hisses.

Mateus smirks. "No one owns snakes around here. It might've ran away from another neighborhood." Then his eyes widen. "Oh. I do recall someone wondering around Jecht's house before I left."

"Why didn't you say so sooner?" Jecht snaps. "I could've been—"

"It wasn't my business. But I don't think she meant any harm."

"Aha!" Kuja exclaims. "I knew the owner was a woman!"

"Is she a new face?" Sephiroth says.

"Quite possibly. I've never seen here before."

"Maybe she's a new neighbor," Cecil says with excitement in his eyes. Just then the snake picks up its head. It searches the air with its tongue lashing in all directions.

"What's wrong, girl?" Jecht cries once the snake begins hissing nonstop.

The neighbors follow the snake's head into the horizon. A figure materializes into view. The snake slithers down Jecht's leg to confront the stranger.

"Howdy!" Jecht calls as the woman kneels down to welcome her pet. "We found your snake wondering around. It's yours, right?"

The woman jolts back as if he'd shocked her. Her face is hidden by a wide-brimmed bonnet.

"H-huh? Did I do something wrong?" Jecht mutters as the woman backs away. His neighbors never let their eyes of the stranger.

 _Hisss. Hisssssss._ Jecht's snake slithers to the figure's hips. Another snake unfurls itself from her back, and the two begin to have a conversation of sorts. All Golbez understood was _hiss_ and _hiss._

"My child says that you rescued her from perishing in the unknown world," the woman whispers in a deep, smoky voice.

"Huh?"

 _Hiss._ "And despite your poor hygiene, she took a liking into you."

"I told you," Mateus sighs. "Even the snakes are commenting on your body odor."

"Watch it…"

"So you _are_ the owner," Kuja says with narrowed eyes.

The figure slowly takes off her bonnet to reveal a wispy head of hair, similar to Kuja's after high humidity. Her hair resembles Sephiroth's and Mateus's, before the latter dyed it. A heart-shaped birthmark brings color to her otherwise pale demeanor.

"Yes. We are family."

"Are you new?" Cecil says after a brief silence. _Things just get weirder and weirder_ , Golbez sighs.

"Yes. We have long searched for a place to call home. Then we found the listing." The woman has the most hypnotic eyes. "This is Lann and Reynn." The corresponding snakes deliver a little dance at their names. "Lann is the left one, and Reynn, the one you rescued, is the right one."

Jecht laughs. "Well. I wouldn't exactly call it a rescue. She just showed up."

"But what is your name?" Sephiroth presses.

The woman stares at him. "Our name? M-my name?" She suddenly becomes flustered. "My name? Erm…"

"What's wrong?" Kuja says.

"Well. It has been a while since we—I used my name." She mulls over this for a little bit. "I-I-I… C-Cloud is fine."

Sephiroth physically tenses, and Jecht shoots him an alarmed glance. "It's nothing. I'm sure that it was nothing," he mumbles so that only Jecht can hear. Mateus raises a brow, but he doesn't say anything.

"Isn't Cloud a boy's name?" Golbez notes.

The woman wrings her hands, causing her snakes to jitter. "We… I… I suppose you can call me Darkne—I-I mean… or CoD…"

"I think Cloud is a great name!" Cecil says a little too loudly. The woman gives him a small smile.

"And CoD sounds like a fish," Jecht sniffs. "I ain't gonna address no lady as a fish." The woman lets out a shy laugh. Her snakes appear to nod in response.

"Very well," Mateus says with a note of finality. "We shall address you as 'Cloud' from now on. I am Mateus. And this annoying little brat is Kuja. This smelly fellow is Jecht. And this old man is Sephiroth. And those two are Golbez and Cecil Harvey."

"How come you're handling our character introductions?" Kuja snaps.

"I get it already. Sheesh." Jecht crosses his arms. When the others aren't looking, he risks a sniff at his armpits.

Sephiroth's glare could melt the coldest of glaciers, but Mateus simply waves it off with a smirk.

Cloud straightens. "Thank you." Her formality returns. "We are happy to be here."

"Where are you from?" Golbez says.

"We are from a very cold, very dark place," she replies softly. "We were living in a void." He doesn't know if she's being literal. "In fact, you are the first humans that cared to talk to us. And you are much kinder than the others."

Mateus nods. "That's great. Once you're here, you're officially a new person. Welcome to the neighborhood, Reynn, Lann, and Cloud."


	6. Hair Dyes

**SUMMARY: Mateus brings his hair dyes over, and Jecht notices something amongst his neighbors for the first time.**

Jecht isn't sure if this is the right house. But judging from the tentacle-like plants creeping up her walls, maybe he's in the right place.

The door creaks open ever so slowly. A tired red eye peers at him from the darkness.

"Hey! Claudia!" Jecht roars.

The door shuts in his face. Or would've shut in his face, if he didn't place his elbow to block it.

"Hey! Don't you remember me? Your neighbor, Jecht!"

"We are not interested in your pamphlets."

"Claudia! Cloud!" The door then creaks open to reveal her heart-shaped face and a similar birthmark on her forehead. Her snakes are draped on her lean shoulders.

"Who is Cloud?" she says.

Jecht grins. "That's what you wanted us to call you by! Don't you remember? You said anything was okay?"

Her eyebrows shoot to her head. "We- _I_ said that?" Her snakes peer at him curiously.

"Um… yeah! Don't you remember, Cloud? Cod?"

The woman crosses her arms. "We do remember you, but we don't recall that name. We remember Mateus, Kuja, Sephiroth, Cecil, and Gobez. But we don't recall 'Cloud.'"

Now Jecht is beginning to feel uncomfortable. He sneaks a glance behind her shoulder. There's belts strewn around on her carpet. Who needs that many belts? "So… what do you want me to call you?"

Her eyes widen again. " _Me?"_ Her face flushes the same color as her eyes, resembling a real-life heart cutout that Tidus would make him for Father's Day. A long, long time ago. "W-w-what's so interesting about-?"

"Cuz I think you're a nice lady with a big heart," Jecht answers with a cheeky grin.

"Whatever is fine," she mutters into her hands. The snakes twirl around her wrists, poking their heads between her fingers to make sure she's all right. "Be it Cloud or Claudia. We… _I_ don't mind."

"Claudia sounds better," Jecht says. "Sounds stronger than Cloud. And I wouldn't want to confuse anyone later on."

"Yes." She still hasn't looked up from her hands.

"Hey. Your face is red. You okay?" Jecht tilts his head to catch her gaze. She keeps avoiding him. "The sun isn't that strong today."

"I am fine," Claudia mutters. "It's… nothing." Her snakes disappear behind her back. "Jecht." Her voice catches on his name. "Can we help you?"

Jecht grins, and her eyes quickly dart away for a second. "Mateus invited you to his house. He wants to show the neighborhood his new items."

"Mateus? The one with white hair?"

"Um. No… That's…" That question actually intrigues him. "They all have white hair. Huh. Whaddaya know." Even Claudia has white hair. Even though all of them shouldn't be having white hair. "He's the one with the expensive suits."

"Ah. He invited us?"

"Yeah. You wanna come?"

Claudia glances back at her living room and watches her snakes disappear from view. "If you went through the trouble of inviting me…" She purses her lips. "I would be honored."

Jecht smiles as Claudia shuts the door behind her. She catches his smile and looks away. "Hey, Claudia," he says with his arms on his hips. "Why do you have so many belts?"

"They're not belts. They're my family."

"O-oh." He tries to pass that off as nonchalantly as possible. Family. Snakes. "Yup. I knew that."

"Thank you for inviting me," she whispers to the concrete.

"Huh?"

"It's a nice day outside."

* * *

Mateus's house is an elegant mansion on the inside. Of course, everything is expensive and glittering. Everything looked like it hasn't been touched, and the faint aroma of aged grape wine hangs in the refined air.

"What's with this oldie music?" Jecht says.

"Mind you, it's a march of the rebel army," Mateus says as if he's talking to a kid. He lifts the stopper on his vinyl, and the music stops. "It's a classic piece of war and sacrifice… if you even know what that means."

"Why you—"

"Can you two save your lover's quarrel for next time?" Kuja cuts in.

"It's not—"

"I'd say it's a healthy rivalry," Sephiroth says with glinting eyes.

"What! Me? Rivals with Mister Lotion?" Jecht roars.

"I don't consider gorillas my rival," Mateus hums. Sephiroth has to restrain Jecht from kicking punching Mateus in the gut while Kuja laughs.

"I sincerely apologize on behalf of these idiots," Sephiroth says to an astonished Claudia.

"It's all his fault!" Jecht growls.

"You can sit anywhere you like, Miss Cloud." Mateus sweeps his arm in a graceful arc, politely ignoring the swearing man. Today he's wearing another expensive suit: deep olive with golden vines creeping up his arms. He'd dyed his hair blond.

"It's Claudia now," Jecht mutters.

"Yes… please call us C- Please call me Claudia," she says.

Kuja shrugs. "That's a beautiful name. Of course, not much as my own, but it conveys power and royalty."

Once Jecht had calmed down and situated himself into a plushy loveseat, he looked hard at his neighbors again. Claudia had a point: they all had white hair. Well… not really white. More like silver. Kuja couldn't be over 25, Mateus (before-dye) was still in his early 40's, and Seph…

"Hey, Seph," Jecht says over a wine-colored pillow.

"Sephiroth, Jecht."

"Potato potato. How old are you again?"

Sephiroth has his deepest frown yet. "Potato?" His brow shades his eyes. "I believe… I'm somewhere in my 30's."

"Doesn't matter. I'm surrounded by a bunch of old farts," Kuja sighs.

While Mateus assures Sephiroth of how boring their lives would be without Kuja, Jecht has his own frown. "What do you mean you _believe?_ "

"It should be an accurate measurement," Sephiroth mutters in a dangerously even tone.

"Would you like to join in our discussion, Miss Claudia?" Mateus says before Jecht can react. She shifts in her seat.

"Oh. Erm. We—I am good." Claudia still looks lost. "I came because you had something to show me?"

Mateus's eyes lighten. "Of course. I do apologize that I've kept you waiting." He reaches over a table and produces a dark ivory box. The intoxicating scent of red wine tugs on Jecht's eyelids. Inside the box is a rainbow of tiny paints nestled in simple glass jars.

"The colors are lovely," Claudia gasps.

"They remind me of a peacock's feathers," Kuja whistles. "Or like a treasure chest full of jewels."

"What is it, Mateus?" Jecht says, struggling to mask his surprise and failing. "Cereal?"

"These are my hair dyes," Mateus says with that haughty tone Jecht knew all too well. "Procured only from natural sources and free of chemicals. They won't wash off when you shower, nor do they damage your hair."

Sephiroth looks disinterested, but he doesn't look away. Mateus smirks. "I also have high-quality shampoo for longer hair that won't result in split-ends and nutrient loss."

"Ah." That brief second of hesitation passes through Jecht and Kuja's minds, but Mateus knew he hit a sore point. The Emperor's smirk grows wider. Sephiroth's eyes flash, and he quickly recomposes himself. "I knew that."

"Sure you did," Mateus hums.

"So are we using it?" Jecht says.

"But of course. After much deliberation, I have decided to _share_ my precious collections with your uncultured lot."

"Did you just call me _uncultured_?" Kuja's voice raises shoots through several octaves. "I'll have you know that I—"

"Huh? Are you calling me a cheese?" Jecht says. Claudia bites back a smile, but her face blossoms into its characteristic red heart. "What's cheese got to do with anything?"

"He means that you're lacking elegance," Sephiroth sighs. "Hygiene, poise, grace, presence… all the good stuff."

"You took the words right out of my mouth. It's as if you've read my mind."

Sephiroth's smirk is cruel. The two seem to be exchanging an intimate message through their forced smiles.

"Where are the siblings?" Claudia says before the neighbors could argue.

"They're busy having bonding time," Mateus replies.

"M-May I see your red dye?" she squeaks. Even Mateus looks surprised. He gently hands her a pristine bottle with dark red liquid… like a vial of blood.

"It is a lovely color. Like a void of..." she trails off. "Like a scarlet void."

"That's an unusual choice for words," Kuja coos. "But very poetic." He flips his hair over his shoulder. "But I'd prefer this golden color." It's a pinkish gold. _Rose gold?_ Jecht can't help but smirk. "Like crystals."

"Crystals?" Claudia clears her throat. "W-what do you prefer, Jecht?"

"Hm. This one, I guess. Although I've never seen anyone with that hair color." He's referring to a clear blue dye that sparkles like translucent water. He looks up. "How about you, Seph?"

Sephiroth sniffs. "I don't really have a favorite."

"You've been avoiding this green one over here." Mateus deftly takes it out and dangles it before his eyes. It's a bright fluorescent green that hurts Jecht's eyes. "I take it that green's not your favorite color?"

"I'd prefer the black dye," Sephiroth mutters into his hands. There's something strange in his own green eyes. "How about you? I take it that gold is your favorite?"

"When you have lighter hair, any color is better than white," Mateus responds with a small smile.

 _Oh._ "Hey I was wondering something," Jecht says. They all look at him. "Why is it that y'all have white hair? I mean, I'm the only one with normal black hair, and I'm older than most of you!"

His neighbors exchange glances. "I've always thought that it's normal," Kuja says with wide, innocent eyes. "Isn't it normal back at your lands?"

"It's fairly common where…. where I came from," Mateus says, but his tone is clipped. "I've seen a fair amount of people with lighter hair."

Claudia hugs her knees. "We have never noticed."

Sephiroth has his arms tightly crossed. _Or—_ Jecht notices— _it looks like he's protecting himself._ "No. No one had white hair where I came from."

Jecht suddenly sits up. "Wait. So where did y'all come from before you moved here? We've been neighbors for years, but you've never told me anything."

His neighbors won't meet his eyes. Neither did the usually smug Mateus, who takes a sudden interest in organizing his collection.

"I believe that's a story for another time," Sephiroth states coldly. His tone means it. The finality strikes Jecht like a blade down his stomach.

"He's right," Mateus says smoothly, but his voice sounds a little shaken up. "I invited you here to sample my hair dyes. I'd hate for my plans to go awry." He tosses a black vial to Sephiroth, who catches it with a suspicious grimace.

"Now turn around."

"What?"

Mateus smirks. "I'm going to make you a younger man."

Sephiroth is about to stand when Jecht slings a strong arm around his shoulder. "I'm actually curious to see you with black hair," he whistles.

"Ooh! I wished I brought my camera," Kuja says. "But I did bring my cosmetics!"

"You carry cosmetics?" Claudia says.

"Of course! Just in case the air messes with my skin!" The woman stares at Kuja for a long, hard moment. Her gaze travels down just briefly, but she doesn't offer additional comment.

"You'll lose an arm if you don't let go," Sephiroth says evenly. Jecht grins and tightens his grip. Kuja whips out his brushes, and Mateus slowly unscrews the black dye with the most sadistic smirk on his lips.

"Um… Is this what you do as neighbors?" Claudia whispers with fascinated eyes.

"This is harra—" Sephiroth growls. His eyes are sparkling like daggers.

"We're friends!" Jecht laughs. He seems unfazed by Sephiroth's unveiled threats. "That's what friends do!" For a second—just a second—Sephiroth falters. Even Mateus and Kuja hesitate. Jecht continues beaming as if his statement is perfectly normal.

"You're my friend too, Claudia! Come on!"

Claudia flushes again, but instead of melting into the ground, she joins Mateus in holding the brush.

"You have such wonderful neighbors," she says. Her family of snakes aren't with her, but for the first time, she doesn't need them.

Mateus flashes her a soft smile. "Be sure to apply an even coat of dye. It'll look weird if it's uneven."

"You're a bunch of idiots," Sephiroth mutters.

"I'm gonna tell the siblings about this!" Jecht laughs. "It's gonna be awesome!"

Kuja watches as his neighbors do their work. He dips his brush into the finely grained powder and studies it. Something still bothers him. Something a certain _someone_ had warned him, a long time ago.

" _People with white hair tend to have black hearts."_

What did _he_ mean by that..?


End file.
